


A Daisy in Skyhold

by SeigePhoenix



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: A little graphic, Altered canon, Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, In reference to Trespasser, Just Lavellan being a huge dork, Just slightly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-14 14:14:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16042121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeigePhoenix/pseuds/SeigePhoenix
Summary: Varric offers to invite one of his old friends to Skyhold to help out the Inquisition.  She's built an eluvian from the ground up and understands the nuances in a way that a human may not grasp.  Lavellan is eager to have a fellow Dalish around, and he finds himself growing more and more fond of Merrill.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amarmeme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amarmeme/gifts).



> I have nothing against Morrigan as a character, I fully enjoy her character. That being said, when I was playing as a Dalish Inquisitor it rubbed me the wrong way with how she spoke about knowing so much about the elven history. So I'm tell in the story from that perspective. It isn't character bashing so much as distrust.

“Look Inquisitor. I know Celene really wants you to have her magical advisor but come on. A _human_ trying to teach you about Dalish heritage?” Varric looked over at Lavellan as the elven Inquisitor pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d been First to his Keeper in the Lavellan Clan. Since birth he’d been educated in their lost lore and magic. He was sure his mother had told him stories in her lilting voice about the ancient elves while he had still been in her womb. The arrogance of the Orlesian Empress and Morrigan scraped against his patience and pride. Mahanon paused to take a deep breath before he looked over at Varric, who gave him a sympathetic eye. Mahanon tolerated the slights, the insults, “knife ear", etc because he knew that Corypheus would end all of that. Josephine did wonders at fixing attitudes, he didn’t want to think too much on how she did it. Just that the mutters were on their guest lips instead of the Inquisition’s. And even that was growing smaller as his deeds began to spread to the smaller areas.

“It is rather demeaning to be told I know nothing about my people by a human, I will admit.” Brayan paused to look around before continuing. “Sadly, it seems Morrigan knows where we need to go next. So I have to go along with this. It isn’t what I’d like, but I have to if I want to defeat Corypheus.” That was what truly grated his pride. Mahanon knew what eluvian translated to, but he’d had no clue they were real. He was stuck being beholden to a human. He scrubbed a hand over his face as he remembered Morrigan wanted to speak with him at his earliest convenience. In that prideful tone of hers, and he stopped himself. She was helping the Inquisition, he should remember that she came to Skyhold and risked a lot to help. He sighed as he dreaded the lecture surely to come. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the witch, but that damned arrogance that she knew more than he did.

“But what if you didn’t?” Mahanon’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the dwarf. Varric sipped his mead as he didn’t bother to keep the smirk from his face. That usually meant he was up to something, but what was the question in Lavellan’s mind. He rarely tried to follow Varric’s train of thought, the same with Sera. They both took winding paths that lead to one answer while he preferred to simply arrive at point A without stopping to see B, C, and D at the same time.

“If this is another surprise reminiscent of Hawke…” Varric hastily waved his hands in front of him. Mahanon had forgiven him that little white lie. He, himself, hated the position of Inquisitor, poor Hawke did not need to have the headache. The poor man had gone through enough with Kirkwall and the start of the mage-templar war. No, he was more than happy to let Hawke remain free of the shackles of Inquisitor. There were enough scars on their soul.

“No. I kept my promise on that. No, the friend I have in mind has experience in these matters. She knows about these eluvians and so much about Dalish history. I can write to her and see if she’s willing to come over.” Varric spoke with his hands and set his tankard down as he finished it.

“Alright Varric. If she has as much information about eluvians as you say, then I am willing. I’d feel far more comfortable speaking of this with a fellow Dalish than a human.” Brayan tried not to let the past transgressions of the humans to elves get in the way of his working with them, but they were still there. It was hard to forgive when his history was littered with the misdeeds it was. Perhaps Varric’s friend would be able to help ease some of the tension he still felt, she’d been in Kirkwall.

“You got it.” Varric took a long drink of his ale before heading off to write his letter. Mahanon grumbled his misgivings into his tankard, wondering just what the devil he’d gotten himself into.


	2. Chapter 2

Mahanon stared down at the stack of reports on his desk. A longing for his life as the Keeper’s First filled him, he realized that while the life hadn’t been easy it was certainly filled with less paperwork. The stress had been different and he’d do anything to go back to having those days again, though he knew it impossible. Even without the burden he was carrying, the world was changing fast. A weary sigh escaped him as he settled down to go through and reply to the missives. Troop movements and requisitions from Cullen, invitations and a who is who from Josephine, and Leliana with the one report he’d hoped to get. His clan was doing well in Wycombe, settled in as members of the Council. That made him smile, thinking of his Keeper having a place of political power. Keeper Deshanna wasn’t known for mincing words, and it gave him a tiny feeling of glee to picture the human nobles having to answer to them.

“I’ll have to write to you soon Keeper.” Mahanon murmured to himself as he set his quill to paper and began replying to the others. He was deep into the papers, hair sticking up in places from his hands constantly running through it as he struggled to find hidden meaning in the words written in front of him. His time as Inquisitor showed him that the nobles would be as likely to write venom covered with honey than to just say what they were thinking. Mahanon just couldn’t understand the need to cling to societal masks when he just wanted to know if the family would ally with the Inquisition. It was in such a state that Varric found him.

“Inquisitor. I have someone you might want to meet.” The burly dwarf grinned at the impatience in Mahanon’s eyes. It mirrored his own when dealing with the Merchant’s Guild. He waited as the Inquisitor smoothed his hair and took a deep fortifying breath. The man had enough on his plate, Varric never envied the Inquisitor his role. “Relax, it’s not a noble. It’s that friend I mentioned.”

“Thank the Creators. I didn’t expect your friend to appear so soon Varric,” Mahanon commented as he joined Varric and they headed down the stairs. He saw the usual guests milling about, whispering behind fans and hands alike. The whispers didn’t even reach his ears these days, he’d managed to tune them out when in the hall. His eyes swept around the area, bewilderment furrowing his brow. “Where is your friend?”

“She went to the garden. Your elfroot garden was in deplorable standards according to her,” Varric grinned as Mahanon cringed. It was in sore need of attention. He had no time to dedicate to gardening as he was out of the castle most of the time or shackled to his desk when in it. Many assumed he lead the life of an indulgent noble but his schedule was tiring in its intensity. Not to mention that he preferred to lead from the front rather than behind a desk. He was out in the wilds, sealing rifts and taking out pockets of Venatori or Red Templars. It was exhausting but he knew that threat the Inquisition faced was a threat to Thedas. He gladly did all his duties to ensure Corypheus stayed down.

Mahanon took a deep breath as they headed to the gardens, for once quiet. The chattering guests that lined the walls were surprisingly empty, and Morrigan must have been with Kieran as she was absent as well. It was peaceful. If it stayed like this all the time he would see about working in the garden. No one yelling his title, _title_ not name, and the quiet of solitude. A soft hum from the nearby Chantry hall reached them but it was muffled by the walls. That gave it a ethereal quality to it. Small grumbles reached them from the corner of the garden, breaking the sense of wonder that had filled him.

“Creators above, look at these weeds. How long have you been neglected I wonder?” Mahanon saw the hunched back by the elfroot garden. The soft green leathers were Dalish made, he recognized the weave. A mop of ebony hair peeked over her shoulders. Fast, furious hands plucked at the weeds stubbornly growing next to the plants. His eyes lowered and he quickly glanced away. _Creators don’t let Varric have seen me looking at her arse_ … A careful glance to the side saw Varric grinning at the elf kneeling by his garden.

“Daisy, the Inquisitor is here.” Mahanon sent Varric a glare at the announcement. What an introduction, his title and little else. Varric disarmed his anger with a roguish smile as the woman stood. It was truly hard to remain anger with Varric at times. The man refused to take some things seriously, like now. Mahanon stiffened as the woman whirled and he stared into wide green eyes. His first thought was how they reminded him of the forests of the Free Marches, but then he noted the annoyance darkening them to an emerald hue. The irritation disappeared as they swept over his face lingering on his vallaslin, the lines curling into the branches of Mythal’s sigil. They swept lower until they reached the Anchor on his hand. She studied his hand as the light pulsed, sending the white hot tingles up his arm. It pulse to some unknown rhythm, but it was not his heartbeat. Her head tilted in curiosity and he was sure she was resisting the urge to grab his hand, it was written all over her face. At least she was far more polite than some others. Another pulse sent tendrils of pain up his arm, duller than before. Mahanon wasn’t sure if the mark was being less painful or if his body had just adapted. He’d bet his body was just more adapted to it.

“Is it painful?” Mahanon opened his mouth to answer when she shook her head. “Oh that is rude of me. I’m sorry. It’s just so fascinating. I’m Merrill.” She extended her hand towards him in greeting. A tiny gasp escaped her as she realized her hands were filthy, she started to brush it off but Mahanon accepted it with a firm grip. Dirt had never bothered him at all. Her sudden shyness intrigued him, she was fascinating. Her voice was lilting, he enjoyed listening and was distracted by it. He started when he realized they were staring at him. Her hand just fit in his hand like it was shaped for it.

“Andaran atish’an, Merrill. I am Mahanon. Formerly of Clan Lavellan.” He released her hand and she nervously wiped it on her leggings, to erase the dirt or his handshake. He couldn’t be sure just yet.

“Oh, you are Dalish? Varric didn’t tell me that.” She sent a reproving glance at Varric who shrugged. The vallaslin should have given him away but he knew some elves that resided in the city took on the markings as well. Nerves could also tangle the tongue.

“I didn’t? I could have sworn I mentioned it.” Mahanon was sure that a halo would have been shining over Varric’s head based on how innocent the man sounded. Whether or not said halo had a little varnish was up for debate.

“You said he was an elf Varric. You didn’t tell me the Inquisitor was Dalish.” Her soft chiding voice amused Mahanon. She sounded like she was scolding a child. It was hard to picture the woman in front of him as angry, but he wasn’t so stupid. Never judge a person by what they show the world, was what Deshanna taught him. _‘Shadows lie in the hearts of men and elves alike da’len. Look to how they treat you and the others around them.’_ He took Keeper’s words to heart. Looking at Merrill, it was difficult to picture shadows on her heart. She’d certainly earned Varric’s respect.

“Varric is known to keep such pertinent details to himself.” Mahanon teased as Varric sent him a look full of mock outrage, complete with hand over heart. Mahanon resisted the urge to snort at the dwarf’s dramatics. The slight had long ago been forgiven, Mahanon understood Varric’s concerns. He would have kept Deshanna’s location a secret as well.

“Me? I’m hurt you would accuse me of such.” He slid his hand from his heart to lay against his forehead. Mahanon resisted the laugh that threatened to break free. Varric was the vision of mock affront. Merrill narrowed her eyes at the two of them before zeroing in on Varric.

“Varric. Have you been causing trouble for the Inquisitor?” Her scolding tone had a smile on Mahanon’s lips. The tone of the long suffering.

“Me? I’d never do such a thing.” Merrill tried keeping a stern face but the smile slowly crept on her face until she gave up on a laugh. It transformed her face and Mahanon took a moment to study her smile before corralling his mind back to the issue at hand. Creators but she looked beautiful when she smiled. He internally grumbled about not letting a pretty face distract him and focused on the conversation.

“I’m ever so glad you didn’t change Varric. I missed you.” Merrill smiled as Varric returned the sentiment. The two had a long history together, they faced the events in Kirkwall along with Hawke. Mahanon heard snippets of the events over the years that Clan Lavellan stayed near Ostwick and Wycomb.

“At least you won’t need that yarn here in Skyhold Daisy.”


	3. Chapter 3

Merrill blended in with the Skyhold staff easily. Leliana and Cullen both knew her from Kirkwall and Josephine was quick to appreciate someone who could help them. Morrigan was not pleased about the predicament, but her feathers were soothed when Merrill brought up the eluvians. The two carried on in-depth discussions of Dalish culture and history, and never got vicious when they disagreed on some parts. Mahanon didn’t believe Merrill could ever be nasty. A temper, sure he believed she had one, but there just didn’t seem to be a vicious bone in her body. Lavellan found himself drawn to her cheery nature, in the face of all the stress of the Inquisition. He usually found her in the garden, near the herb garden. Mahanon found himself drawn to her every time he had a spare moment. Morrigan seemed content enough to be left to her own studies, he left it to Josephine to mostly deal with her. Something he should feel guilty about but he just didn’t feel comfortable around the witch.

“Good morning Inquisitor.” She beamed up at him as she straightened from examining the leaves of an embrium flower. Mahanon repressed the sigh at his title being used again, but he enjoyed hearing it on her lips. It wasn’t the burden or assumption of help that it was on others. “Oh, how forgetful of me. You dislike your title. Good morning Mahanon.”

“Good morning Merrill. We’re getting ready to head to the Temple of Mythal in the Arbor Wilds. Cullen says that the troops should be ready in another week.” Mahanon stared at his hand as it pulsed in bright, rapid flashes. Her hand covered his, it gave him a jolt to see it. It also snatched him from his thoughts on the risky nature of their plan. Every time he went into the field he knew he was taking a chance it would be his last.

“It still pains you.” He opened his mouth to protest but she shook her head. “I can see it in your eyes.” Her other hand reached up and she brushed her fingers over the lines around his eyes.

“Yes. It’s still painful, but it’s not as sharp as before.” Mahanon smiled to show her it was fine. He’d gotten used to it after all. Yet, he sensed Merrill didn’t buy his story.

“Will I be going with you to the Arbor Wilds? I’ve heard so many stories about them.” Mahanon went still at the thought of Merrill in danger. He chided himself for the knee jerk reaction. This woman knew how to take care of herself, he’d seen her magic first hand. She would be needed at the Temple of Mythal.

“If you’d like to. I’d like it if you could go with us into the temple.” Mahanon wasn’t expecting the smile and excitement that shone on her face.

“Thank you Mahanon! I’d very much like to come with you.” He nodded and lost his train of rational thought at her smile. He wondered if she could ever smile that way for him. He stayed and listened as Merrill told him about how her clan used embrium for poultices on insect stings.

“Given Sera’s fondness for bees that recipe could come in handy.” Mahanon chuckled as Merrill admonished him for teasing. “I’m only half serious. She did stuff one of the training dummies with bees. Luckily it was Cassandra that struck the dummy, the bees didn’t have the courage to sting her.”

“Oh you. Seeker Pentaghast is a wonderful person. She reads the most lovely stories.” Merrill smiled at him as he looked at her with his brow narrowed.

“Wait. Not the Swords and Shields series?” Mahanon had read that series with Varric next to him. It was utter tripe, just like the dwarf had told him. He wasn’t a fan of the romance genre to begin with, but that was over the top. Yet, he still advocated for Varric to finish it. Cassandra liked it and he considered her a good friend.

“Oh yes. It’s so thrilling. I do wonder how they’ll make out in the end. It’s rather sad the author isn’t updating.” Mahanon groaned as now he had to tell Varric that Merrill enjoyed his romance series. Soon the entire population of Skyhold would be wanting an update.

“I can talk to the author.”

“Oh? You know them?”

“Cassandra didn’t tell you?” Mahanon asked as he clasped his hands behind his back to hide the pulses from the Anchor.

“No, she kept that to herself.” Merrill sighed and put her hand against her cheek as she puffed out her cheeks.

“Varric wrote those.” Merrill’s head snapped up and he saw the smile trying to appear on her face.

“Varric? He wrote those? He told me he’d never write something like that.” Mahanon nodded and held up his unmarked hand. He swore that it was the dwarf. “Then perhaps I should speak with Varric about finishing it.” Merrill grinned as Mahanon chuckled. If anyone could get Varric to update the book series, it was Merrill. Mahanon turned as one of the messengers arrived with a missive from Josephine.

“Duty calls.” He told Merrill as he nodded his acknowledgement. The messenger melted back into the crowds lined around the garden.

“Will you have some free time later? I enjoy speaking with you.” Merrill smiled as Mahanon felt his heart trip. He had to remind himself not to take it too seriously. It could mean anything, but he nodded.

“When I do I’ll drop by. I enjoy the time together as well Merrill. Enjoy the rest of the sunshine.” Mahanon glanced up at the bright and clear sky before he headed back into the castle to deal with nobility issues. The missive indicated Sera was at the root of this particular problem. He heaved a sigh at having to deal with it again.

Merrill wasn’t in the garden when he came back several hours later. He tried not to let the disappointment sting. Instead, he found himself headed towards the Herald’s Rest. His stomach protested his forgetting to eat dinner, _again_. He was guilty of getting too caught up in his duties to remember to eat, and it was bothersome. He knew the barkeep always kept a plate warm for him and he smiled at the man as he pulled up a stool.

“Again Inquisitor? You need someone to look out for you. Make sure you eat.” Mahanon grinned as he tucked into the dinner plate. He heard rustling next to him and glanced over to see a flash of green settling next to him.

“You don’t eat Mahanon?” He glared at the barkeep to remain silent but Corypheus himself couldn’t intimidate the dwarf.

“The man forgets to eat all the time. We’ll have nothing but a skin and bones Inquisitor at this rate. A good stiff breeze’ll knock him right over.” Mahanon choked on his drink at that last bit. He glared at the dwarf.

“It’s hardly that bad.” Mahanon answered as Merrill watched the interaction. He turned and smiled at her. “I get busy sometimes and it’s usually dinner I forget about.”

“That’s not healthy. I’ll make sure you eat.” She told him with a pat on his shoulder. The barkeep laughed and went back to wiping the glasses as Mahanon stared blankly at Merrill.

“Only if you join me for dinner then.” The words left his mouth before he could think better of them. His face heated up and he just _knew_ his ears were bright red. They always turned red when he was embarrassed. Her smile caught him off guard.

“I’d like that. Then it’s a deal. We’ll have dinner together to make sure you eat.” Mahanon was stunned. He didn’t think she’d actually agree to it. His heart kicked against his ribs as he thought about dinner with Merrill, but she likely meant in the Herald’s Rest. Not anywhere with more privacy. He smiled as she began to talk about her day with him. His dinner could have been sawdust for all he paid attention to the taste. Soon enough reality would crash down on them, no one would blame him for enjoying the quiet.


	4. Chapter 4

The Arbor Wilds was a wake up call for them. Abelas had been abrupt with them, coolly dismissing any of Merrill’s questions. Facing down Samson had been nail biting, given that both Morrigan and Merrill raced towards the Well ahead of them. Mahanon had taken a wound to his side during the battle, a miscalculation of Samson’s reach with that hammer. The pain pulsed up his side in a sharp throb. Spots danced in his vision as he took a step after Samson fell. The man lived, he would need to answer for his crimes. Not with his life but with another punishment, one that would come later as Mahanon’s mind was bleary from the pain. Bull slung his arm over his shoulders and they trudged up the stairs to the well.

“We will not decide without the Inquisitor here.” Merrill stood in front of Morrigan as they approached. Lavellan released Bull and limped over to the pool. He could feel the whispers in his mind. Abelas stood by the pool as well, his speech about a dying people tugged at Mahanon’s soul. He was an Ancient Elf, from the days before the fall. Yet, he refused to share any of his knowledge with them. Mahanon wasn’t sure what to think, but he knew they needed whatever was in the well.

“Who is to drink from the well then?” Morrigan demanded as they stood by. Mahanon knew she would not be the one to drink from it. His eyes fell on Merrill and then onto the water. His gut twisted at the thought of Merrill being bound to whatever was in the water. He knew his answer. Bull helped him as he swayed, bringing the mages’ attention to the crimson stain on his armor.

“Mahanon.” The one word held a wealth of meaning. He heard the waver in her voice, the worry weighing it down. In answer his heart turned over. _Figures, you get a case of the flutters with a gash in your side._ He sighed at his thoughts and stepped forward.

“I’ll drink from the well.” He heard the arguments from both of them.

“Yo, Boss? What if this like kills you?” Bull made a good point. Mahanon didn’t have a good argument other than: well if it does, then it does. He just knew he didn’t want Merrill to drink from the well and suffer any ill effects. He knew Morrigan wouldn’t drink from it, in his opinion it should be an elf.

“Well, Thedas has tried. It hasn’t succeeded so I don’t think this will either.” He grinned at Bull and felt a hand on his arm. Merrill stood by his side with concern in her eyes. “I’ll be fine Merrill.” He smiled down at her and covered her hand with his own. Reassurance through a brief squeeze before he pulled her hand off him. He made his way into the water. It was like slipping into a warm bath, and he noted his robes didn’t get wet. The magic hummed along his skin, the whispers edging into his mind.

He cupped his hands and brought the water up for a sip. The water burned like fine whiskey going down. His mind went blank as the spell was cast. The knowledge of the Ancients flooded his mind, overwhelming in its intensity. He fell to his knees as he spoke to the spirits in his mind. The clarity of the spell made him glad he’d been the one to drink.

“Mahanon!” Merrill’s voice sounded muffled, like she was underwater. Hands pulled at him and he realized it had been from underwater. _He’d_ fallen under the surface of the pool after the spirits latched onto his mind. Glazed eyes stared up as she cradled his head against her. Surprisingly strong, he shouldn’t have been shocked. He knew she was strong, he’d seen her in action. He reached up with his hand to brush at some of her hair that clung to her forehead. “Oh Creators, you’re alright.”

“We can have that reunion later! Coryphishit is here!” Sera yelled as the door to the temple opened. Mahanon bit down on his cheek to clear his mind, he sat up in the water.

“You have the power?” Cole asked quietly as Mahanon nodded. The boy remained quiet, which was unusual. They rushed through the mirror with Bull practically dragging Mahanon behind him. He couldn’t resist as they ran into the eluvian. Bull and Sera would give him a high five for it later, but he threw up one rude gesture at Corypheus as the eluvian shut forever behind them. A fuck you to the ancient magister.

Their arrival in Skyhold was met with alarm as the blood stained Mahanon’s armor. He was rushed to the healer and told to stay in bed for a few days. Lavellan hoped that Corypheus gave them a few days, otherwise he’d be fighting with two broken ribs. The voices whispered in his mind in the quiet moments, and he’d listen when he wasn’t in such constant pain. He’d sat up in bed, clad only in his trousers and bandages when Merrill skirted along the edge of the railing. Her cheeks turned pink as she averted her eyes.

“I wanted to see how you were feeling. The healer said you had broken ribs.” She clasped her fingers in front of her, restlessly twirling her thumbs around each other.

“Yes. I misjudged Samson’s reach with that blasted hammer of his. He got my side good in that fight.” Mahanon reached up to brush a hand against the wounded side. He knew the bruises were bad but at least the gash had healed. He looked up at her quiet sound of distress.

“This happened because I was trying to chase Morrigan.” Mahanon shook his head.

“If it wasn’t me, then it could have been you. I’d rather it be me.” He called himself ten times a fool. That was revealing far too much. That potion the healer had given him for pain must have loosened his tongue. She shuffled over to him and laid a hand on his cheek.

“I don’t like seeing you hurt.” He leaned into her hand. The months she’d been with them at Skyhold had been invaluable. Not just for her knowledge. She had a way about her that had most going out of their way to be nice. Mahanon had been gone the moment he’d looked into her beautiful green eyes.

“I’m sorry. I can’t help it as Inquisitor.” He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “We face danger every time we step outside of those gates.” He reached up, ignoring the pain in his side ignored for the moment. “I can’t promise to come back unharmed, but I will make you the promise to do my damn best to come back.” The backs of his fingers brushed against her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed and she smiled while she leaned into his touch.

“I’ll hold you to it.” He shifted his hand until he cupped her cheek. His thumb brushed over her cheekbone and the markings there. His heart thundered in his chest as his thumb dipped lower, caressing her bottom lip. Her breathing shifted, a quick inhale that faltered.

“Can I kiss you?” Her eyes snapped open at his question. He saw the concern, nerves, but also want flash across her face. A moment’s hesitation, his question had thrown her off balance.

“Yes.” The blood rushed through him at her answer. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. A gentle exploration as he learned the shape and texture. His hand slid around to the back of her head as he took the kiss deeper, letting her steep in his system.

Mahanon sat back as his side protested, loudly, the position he’d been in. Her eyes took a moment to refocus, he had no shame in admitting that gave him a moment of pride. They cleared up and she flushed a pretty red. “I’ve come to care for you a great deal Merrill. Certainly, more than a friend.”

“I do too. I mean, oh.” She huffed in exasperation before she gathered her thoughts. “I care for you. More than I thought possible.” It was his turn to blush when she pressed her forehead against his. Her hands cupped the sides of his neck as the silence stretched. Not awkward between them. This was comfortable, a treasured moment of peace between them.

Suddenly, an explosion rocked the sky above them. The Breach pulsed as something reopened it. Mahanon fell back with a curse as fire licked up his arm. The Anchor flared wildly in his palm in response to the Breach.

“Mahanon!” Merrill reached for him but he shook his head. Her hand hovered above him, before she curled her fingers into her palm and brought it back.

“I’m liable to lash out like this. I don’t want to hit you Merrill.” He gave her a weak smile. “I may not put much strength behind it, but I don’t want to strike you. Even accidentally.” She nodded, the hurt fled at his explanation.

“Inquisitor!” He heard Josephine’s voice at the bottom of the stairs. Mahanon hissed at being caught without his shirt on by the ambassador. “The Breach!” She rounded the stairs and froze in her tracks at the sight before her. Cullen skidded into her back as Leliana rounded up the trio. She managed to stop in time.

“Looks like Corypheus isn’t giving us a chance. We have to go.” Mahanon struggled to sit up, eventually holding out his unmarked hand. Merrill took it and helped Lavellan to sit up. She didn’t release his hand, something that did not slip past Leliana.

“Our troops aren’t back from the Arbor Wilds Inquisitor. We have a few, but the bulk of our forces are still in route back.” Mahanon nodded.

“We’ll go with what we have then.” He stood and grabbed onto the bedpost as his head swam. Merrill clutched his hand like a lifeline. His advisors wanted to argue but they all knew the stakes. They left after getting the order to head to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. He turned to Merrill and brought their hands up to his lips.

“I won’t break my promise.”


	5. Chapter 5

The defeat of Corypheus left nothing solved in Thedas. Mahanon spent time with Merrill in Skyhold, she was the only one who truly knew how painful the Anchor had become. The green tendrils of whatever magic had possessed the orb crawled up his arm slowly. They sat bundled together in a blanket as they watched over the activity in the courtyard. Merrill tucked the blanket around them, snuggling further into his chest.

“What will you do if the Inquisition no longer needs you?” Merrill traced the lines in his forearm with her finger. He felt her magic probing at them, trying to get a read on it. It sent little bursts of painful heat up his arm. After two years, he’d grown used to the pain. Merrill stared up at him as he debated his answer.

“I don’t know. I’d like to travel to see Keeper Deshanna and introduce you to them.” A shadow passed over her face. He’d heard about what happened with her clan, and he brought his hand up to her face. “Merrill, it won’t be like that. I promise. Keeper Deshanna is very…” His lips twitched as he tried to think of the word to describe them. “Open-minded about magic. You’ll be very welcome there among them.” He brushed his thumb against her cheek. He brought his lips to her forehead and breathed. These quiet moments were rare, even after she’d moved into his quarters. Something the advisors had been against but he dared them to argue. Merrill stayed with him when all the others had left, though she had traveled with Varric to Kirkwall for a visit. She’d come back to him, and he’d shown her that night how grateful he was that she came back.

“And would you want to stay with them?” Merrill’s question echoed a similar one he’d asked himself. He’d given it a lot of thought of thought over the years, but he knew in his heart that life had passed by him.

“No. After everything here, I don’t think I can go back to the Dalish lifestyle. Will you want to go back to Kirkwall?”

“Yes. As much as I love it here, Kirkwall is home.” He heard the warmth in her voice as she spoke of home, he knew what his answer would be.

“Then, I’ll go to Kirkwall with you. If you’ll have a washed-up former leader of a religious organization?” He grinned at her as he waited for her answer. A beat passed between them and he began to worry. Suddenly arms circled his neck as she flung herself against him. It threw him off balance and they went toppling backwards.

“Yes, yes. I want you to go with me to Kirkwall!” She buried her face in his chest as he laughed. His arms went around her waist and he stared up at the sky, his heart filled to the brim. The words were on his tongue and he didn’t feel any hesitation this time.

“ _Ar lath ma, vhenan_.” Merrill went still above him as the native words slid off his tongue easily. She lifted her head and he saw the tears swimming there. Panic burst as he reached for her face.

“I love you too. _Ar lath ma_.” She leaned forward to press her lips against his. He didn’t think anything could bring down his spirit. Fate had a funny way of rising to a challenge.

The Exalted Council was as pretentious as he’d assumed. He had tiptoed away as Josephine geared up to introduce him to another noble. Mahanon found himself in the gardens of the palace, which looked much different in the daytime. As he suspected, he found Merrill there tending to an abused elfroot plant.

“These Orlesian gardeners should be ashamed of themselves. They can’t even care for you properly.” She clucked her tongue at the plant as he made his way over to her. It was reminiscent of their first meeting.

“I’m sure glad that isn’t my garden.” She jumped to her feet and spun to see him.

“ _Vhenan_! Is it true? They want you to disband the Inquisition?” Merrill placed her hand on his arm in concern. He sighed and nodded as they began to walk along the garden path.

“Yes. The Ferelden monarchy would like that. Orlais wants to put a fancy gold collar around its neck. Or rather a certain Commander’s neck.” Merrill snorted with laughter at the image.

“You’re terrible. Poor Cullen.” Merrill’s eyes danced with laughter. She and Mahanon walked in silence until they reached the gates of the garden. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the simple band.

“Merrill,” he began as he took a shaky breath. “Will you marry me? No matter how this Council goes I’m stepping down as Inquisitor. I want to spend my life with you.” He held out the ring to her. The silverite glittered in the sunlight, the simple words inscribed into the metal: _Ar lath ma bellanaris_. I love you forever. She stared at him blankly and then at the ring, he began to think he’d done something wrong when the tears formed.

“Yes. I will marry you!” Merrill smiled at him with the tears shining in her eyes and he took her hand. The ring fit just right on her finger.

“I would like Keeper Deshanna to perform the ceremony, if you agree?” She nodded and his chest warmed at the sight. She rubbed the heel of her hand against her eyes and he brushed some of her tears away with his thumb. He wanted to say something else but a messenger approached. He was needed for a problem that arose due to his soldiers.

“I’ll be back _vhenan_.”

“I know. You promised.” He smiled at her. The promise he’d made to her two years before he’d faced Corypheus. He’d always come back. He followed the messenger, never expecting that his world would be shattered at the end of it. His arm had been consumed by the Anchor’s magic the further he went into the Crossroads. Solas had left him, turned his back on one of the ‘people’ he was supposedly saving. Mahanon knew his death was going to happen, the magic crept close to his heart.

 _Vhenan_. The whisper in his mind brought the image of Merrill. Alongside her were the rest of the people he’d befriended. People that had followed him into hell and back. There was no way he was going to let Solas harm them. Yet, he was effectively trapped. The eluvian sat in front of him dull and lifeless, closed to him. He looked down at his arm, first things first. The pain was almost too much, but he refused to give in. He tied the tourniquet as best he could around his arm, summoned his spectral blade, and severed the charred remains of his arm. He screamed as the pain greyed his vision. His body throbbed in response and he fell backwards. As his vision darkened he saw the eluvian shimmer in front of him.

“Mahanon!” He struggled to regain conscious. Merrill filled his field of vision, followed by Bull and Cassandra. Merrill knelt by his side, her hand hovered over his arm. Her eyes swung over to the Anchor, just a faint green glow remained.

“Stand aside. We’ll get him back and seen to.” Cassandra told Merrill as Bull scooped him up. He made a token protest as they stepped through the portal. His eyes rolled up and he mercifully passed out from the pain.

He came to a few hours later in his tent. He reached out for the nightmare but remembered at the last second. A soft weight next to him drew his attention. Merrill slept soundly beside him, her hands tucked under her chin. He reached over with his hand and brushed the stray lock of hair out of her face. It was enough to wake her up.

“Mahanon, _vhenan_.” She reached for him hesitantly, but her hands slid over his cheeks. Then over his shoulders and torso.

“I kept my promise.” He grinned sheepishly. “With a little help.” Tears spilled down her face.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know it had gotten so bad. I was right beside you but I didn’t even realize!” Mahanon pulled her against him as she cried. Guilt swamped him, he’d hidden how bad it had gotten. He told her as much.

“It wasn’t your fault Merrill. You’re the reason I kept going. I had to get back to you.” She sniffed and tried to give him a watery smile. “I wouldn’t let a little thing like amputating my arm keep me from you. And you were the one to rescue me.”

“You’ve saved me a time or two. I think I can return the favor.” She chuckled as he touched his forehead to hers. “When we came out of the eluvian, my heart stopped.”

“When you came out of the eluvian you were like Mythal herself. Younger and definitely prettier of course.” He laughed as she smacked his shoulder.

“She’d smite you if she heard that.” Mahanon grinned as he brought his face to her neck, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin there. They had zero privacy in the tent, a disappointment as he wanted to trail kisses down her body. He settled for light, teasing kisses along the column of her throat. Her soft sigh went straight to his groin, and it was a herculean task to pull away from her soft and warm body. His eyes roamed over her face, stopping at her beautiful green eyes.

Everything wouldn’t be fine. Solas needed to be stopped. He’d already decided to disband the Inquisition and keep looking for him on his own. Less likely to be double agents if there were no agents. Mahanon knew that as long as he had Merrill by his side, everything would work out. He tightened his arm around her waist and a thought popped into his mind.

“Is the Anchor still in the Crossroads?”

“No. Bull said something about bringing it for a deal? What did he mean by that?”

“Xenon in the Black Emporium will trade my arm for the miniature bear he has in the store.” He could feel the judgment coming from her petite frame. He and Bull had spoken in length about getting that tiny bear. A seemingly positive to the negative event.

“I can’t believe you’re thinking about that at a time like this.” Her words lacked conviction as she tried to scold him. The laugh that shook her voice and the smile that threatened to appear ruined the effect.

“ _Ar lath ma, vhenan_. I will always come back to you.” He pressed his lips against her forehead as she smiled warmly at him.

“I love you as well my heart.” She slipped her arms around his neck as they took what little solace that was available in that little tent. The hustle and bustle of palace activity went unnoticed by them as they shut the world out for a few more hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we draw to a close on a humorous note. I did alter the timeline/canon of a few things to suit the fic. Please pardon my elven, I used the new Elven Translator on LingoJam to help with the translating.


End file.
